


Relic

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Knight [13]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:52:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>@poetdameron's headcanon: Also headcanon that Leia gave Poe, Ben's kryber crystal for his old lightsaber he was building while training with his uncle. Poe uses it as a good luck amulet, always on his neck, near his chest where that boy belongs. And Kylo Ren sees it during the interrogation after Jakku and his world stops for a moment because HOW can this freaking man love that weak boy so much after so many years?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetdameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetdameron/gifts).



Poe gives him what he wants. Of course he does. No one can hold out, against the Power of the Dark Side. No one. Some last longer than others, but how could a mere _pilot_ , a **mundane** , withstand the scion of Darth Vader himself? 

He gives him what he wants: droid, a BB unit. _Orange and white_ , says the inside of Poe’s mind, like the colour is important. Orange, like the Resistance, like the Rebellion. White, like Light. That’s where the map is. That’s where it’s hidden. 

Poe tries to resist, of course. To think about other things, instead. To think about a face that is no longer his, a history that was real, but is now **over**. And Kylo doesn’t blame him for trying, but he refuses to be distracted. Refuses, and -

\- the man leaning forwards, a glint of something sharp and bright - and Kylo’s eyes flicker down to see the shape of an old thing, something that should no longer exist. Something grown by someone who still had hope, a relic of a reality that could never continue. A dead end, the end of a line.

A crystal. _His_. It resonates in the air, the pulse of a man who didn’t make it chasing through the crystalline structures. A vibration into the air. A calling, and–

_You know, it’s okay._

***

“You know, it’s okay.”  


Ben, with his legs bent out at odd angles, the soles of his boots meeting, hands on the tops of his feet, holding them still. Nervous energy making him bounce. He didn’t want to tell Poe about the plan for his training, but Poe could always drag secrets from him. Almost always.

“Yeah?”  


“Yeah! It’s a good thing. You’re really strong, aren’t you?”  


“I guess.” Ben doesn’t feel strong. He feels anything but. It was hard to talk about Force things with anyone, though. Mom didn’t train, though she uses her innate skills, so she doesn’t really understand. Dad _tries_ to be understanding, but fails utterly. Chewie just gives him big hugs and says nice things, but none of it really makes him _actually_ feel better about this. This decision, that people had made **for** him.  


“So you’ll be a really strong Jedi. Like your uncle.”  


Like his uncle. 

“A hero.”  


“There’s no Empire, now,” Ben says, softly. “Even your Dad knows that.”  


“You can still be a hero, like Luke.”  


Ben doesn’t want to be like Luke. “I’m not even a good pilot. I can’t fly. Not like you can.” Poe doesn’t really fly a _starfighter_ , but he does take ships out with supervision. Ben is too nervous to do it.

“Well, I’ll be the pilot, then. And we’ll fight bad guys together.”  


Poe would be Han, then. If Ben was Luke. He wasn’t sure why he feels so irritated by this, but… Poe is better than his dad. His dad isn’t like Poe. Poe is all kind and calm, and easy to talk to, and he doesn’t judge. And if Poe is Han, then… then someone would be Leia, and Ben would be all alone.

Ben isn’t sure if his uncle is lonely or not. There’s sadness in his eyes, at times. He smiles and laughs and would throw a younger Ben in the air, but there’s this distance, this… 

“Okay,” Ben says, even though he doesn’t want to say it. The galaxy needs its Lukes as much as it needs its Hans and its Leias. It needs its Poes. He just hopes he’s good enough.  


***

Their eyes meet. Poe can’t see through his mask, but does he even need to? Kylo is sure he’s kept his own memories inside his head, that Poe can’t read them through the connection, because he’s not Force-sensitive. Why would he be able to…

…his fingers are on the crystal. No… his _gloves_. A distance between him then, and him now. A line drawn in the sand. He’s leaning too close, and Poe’s face looks more hurt now, than it ever did with any amount of deliberate torture before.

“ _Ben…”_  


It isn’t his name. His hand tightens around the crystal, holds so tightly that the sharp edges of it would nearly cut through his hand, if it was bare. 

***

The more he tries, the harder it gets. Ben is sure he’s an absolute failure. Focus. Control. Peace. Serenity. All these things that he’s supposed to find, and he can’t. 

Day by day, the storm inside of him is louder. The knowledge that he will never be strong enough is crippling. The crystal is supposed to be the apex of his training. Not the final step, but the first - biggest - one. After that, there’s no going back. 

Ben tries to make it as slowly as he can, thinking that any minute, any second he can put this off, the better. He doesn’t want to be a Jedi, never did. His family think it’s the only way, but he’s felt more lost by the day. Away from family, away from friends. 

Poe wanted him to be a good Jedi. It makes sense that his parents, his uncles would want it… but Poe? Poe thought he could be, too. Ben feels the smooth sides, the angles, and looks at the way light fractures and splinters inside: it goes in soft and diffuse, and then it tightens over planes and dances back out. Should he be like this? Should he reflect the light back out? Instead, it feels like it just gets swallowed up inside of him.

If only he could make himself as well as he makes the weapon. He holds tight onto the half-made hilt, and he _meditates_ in a way that feels more like **panicking** , and he _fightsfightsfights_ against the horror, and the Darkness.

***

“He’s _gone_ ,” Kylo tells him. “He’s gone.” His hand pulls back, and the distance is restored. Distance, but they’re still connected. Even without the touch, without the tangible pressure.   


“No.” Poe shakes his head, and there’s tears in the corners of his eyes. “No. He’s not.”   


“He was **weak**.” Why are they even discussing this? He should leave. His voice cracks, his body aches. It aches from his shoulders down into his ribs. Every bone feels like it’s expanding, and the inside of his skull throbs. The pulse of his blood turns his frame into a seastorm.   


“He was a boy,” Poe replies.  


“He was **WEAK**.”  


“Ben, Ben _please_ –”  


“He was no hero,” Kylo says, and he throws himself back into Poe’s head.  


***

It should work. It should. He should show him the death, but Poe thinks just as hard back at him. Poe doesn’t have the Force, but Poe knows _Ben_. He knows a boy who was afraid, and Kylo knows Ben, and the overlap is _agony exquisite and real_. 

One minute, the Jedi are screaming. The next, two boys under the stars. One moment, it’s the feel of lives going out. The next it’s ‘stolen’ fruit from an orchard, juice dribbling down chins and the thrill of misbehaving. It’s being told to **kill kill kill them all** and it’s complaining about needing new shoes because you’re _growing so fast_. It’s the knowledge that he’s broken, bad, wrong, twisted… and quiet confessions against the vibrating hull of a ship doing pre-flight checks. It’s _dying_ \- dying and losing yourself, your name - your whole **being** and it’s seeing someone who refuses to let you _go_.

Why won’t he let him go? Kylo screams in protest, inside of Poe’s head. _I’m a monster. I’m not him. I was him but he died. He died, he died, he died. He had to die I’m not him I’m not him I’m not I’m not–_

He pulls out, horrified, and he realises he can’t keep the façade up, here. He can’t keep that boundary between _then_ and **now**. He can’t stay in the present, and he can’t make Poe give up, and he doesn’t know why it matters, but it does. It matters. Poe should hate him, like Kylo hates himself. He doesn’t. They’re both panting, both a mess, and even after the connection is broken, he still hears Poe’s voice inside his head.

_Come home_.

He can’t. He forces Poe into the blackness of unconsciousness, into dreams. He takes his thinking mind away - if only for a little while - so he can think in peace.

It doesn’t help.

_Come home_.

A flicker of yellow crystal, still showing past the shirt. The path he couldn’t take, the one of a _Sentinel_. Not blue, not green, not red.

A him that he could never be free enough to be, hung around the neck of a man he could never be free enough to love. 

Kylo’s breathing is ragged, shattered, torn. He can’t keep Poe’s dreams out of his head, and he doesn’t know how to make it stop.

_Come home, come home, come home_.

***

A memory, from someone else’s eyes. A feeling of loss and hope. Poe watching the exhaust trails of a ship that takes his best friend away. Poe doesn’t want him to go, but he doesn’t want Ben to be so upset. He doesn’t know why Ben feels so low at times, and nothing he does seems to work forever.

Maybe Master Skywalker will fix him. Maybe he will make his friend whole again. Poe knows he can’t. Poe isn’t enough for Ben… and when he feels the hand on his shoulder, it’s another memory, instead. It’s eyes of a mother not-quite his own, and words that fall inside his head but he doesn’t remember precisely.

He’d been too numb. Too numb. Fingers closing around the last piece of a puzzle that wasn’t solved. Ben is gone.

Ben is gone.

Poe… is alone.


End file.
